


Transigen

by ionlyjoinedforfanfic



Series: The Good Girl [7]
Category: Wolverine (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Board References to Military Violence, F/M, Fluff, Medical Procedures, Secretive Donald, Smut, Torture and Experimentation on Mutants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:35:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27161227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionlyjoinedforfanfic/pseuds/ionlyjoinedforfanfic
Summary: We get a closer look at Donald's work with Transigen and even get Donald's POV.
Relationships: Donald Pierce/Reader, Donald Pierce/You
Series: The Good Girl [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982072
Kudos: 3





	Transigen

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted as part of 'Mexico' but I felt people were missing some great and important chapters in the series

**0830: Transigen Research Facility, Mexico City**

The hard slap of Donald Pierce’s combat boots seemed to echo in the sleek, pallid corridors as he stormed towards his office. The passageways filling with people readying themselves for the working day, already looking wan and tired under the harsh, fluorescent lights. He wasn’t late, but typically he’d arrive much earlier when the hallways were almost empty, just the ghosts of the night shift roaming. Shelia, a spectacled strawberry blond, was typing at her desk when Donald approached. Even if he were quieter, she would sense him, the air frigid with fear at the intimidating force that was Transigen’ s Head of Security.

“Coffee and the latest reports.” he barked. He was in no mood to charm subordinates today.

He shut the door to his office, slumped in the executive chair and clacked his teeth, he needed to get his head together. He was in a mood – it wasn’t his anger that was an issue (he could use that) but he felt weak and at the mercy of his jumbled emotions, lacking control and he hated it. He thought that you coming to Mexico would help ease the conflict between the two of you, but he couldn’t allow you freedom in his world and potentially the decision had caused more damage. Why was he so bent out of shape over a woman, you were just a woman, nothing special - except you were. You were everything to him. Had unearthed parts of him he thought lost forever and you had become the focus of his life, his every thought.

There was a quiet knock at the door, Shelia entered with a stack of files and mug. “Mr Pierce?”

“On the desk.” Donald removed his sunglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, “That’ll be all.”

“Excuse me Mr Pierce, but just to remind you, you have a 10 o’clock with Dr Rice.” Donald nodded an acknowledge and the secretary made her quiet retreat, leaving him to his musings.

You, his lover, his baby, drove him crazy. All of the time. Since the moment you met! It wasn’t being with you but without you, the days apart when he would yearn for you, so badly he didn’t think he would survive. At this very moment, if he wanted to, he could be with you within 20 minutes, and you’d welcome him with kisses and affection, with warmth and desire. He should be so fucking happy, usually the only satisfaction he had was from his own hand. Though over the course of your relationship you’d settled on ways (photos and calls) to stave off the cruellest of passions until you were together. Better than in the beginning, that was truly the hardest, when there was no real release for his lust. He wanted to do it all right, you deserved it, but patience was not a strength he had. From your first date you had shown how sweet and kind you were, you had no clue of your beauty, no clue of your allure. The way you looked at him, sure at times you were intimidated like others were, yet at others there was something else, something deeper – love and hope and wanting, reflecting what he himself wanted. He realised what he could have, a life that he thought lost to him. At times it seemed impossible, but he’d clung to the fairy tale and it was tearing him in two.

After the date, the first one, he’d sought someone out. She wasn’t you but had the same frame, hair colour, close enough to pretend, though there was no sweetness to her eyes. He couldn’t remember her name, he doubted he even asked, he had no intention of calling her by it, she was just a stand in, a way to expel his cravings. But that was a onetime thing, a bitter regret. When he saw you again you welcomed him with your beautiful tenderness, stroked his hair with your fingertips, kissed him deeply he was consumed with desire and stabbing guilt. He wouldn’t do it again, nothing would ever compare to you. He wanted all of you, and only you. All of the time and that was the problem. You wanted him too, but he couldn’t give you that, parts of himself were too dark, too dangerous.

**1000: Transigen Research Facility, Office of Dr Zander Rice**

“Ah Donald, do come in?”

“Dr Rice,” Donald nodded as he took a seat across from the tall, wiry man. “Did ya look at the subject list?”

“Yes, yes, and it’s your recommendation that all of these subjects are to be terminated?”

“Well, that’s your call Doc but I’d categorise them as all high risk and that needs to be contained.”

“Hmmm I see, most unfortunate.” his English accent soft and reserved, as if they were discussing bad weather rather than euthanasia.

“We can’t risk an incident.”

“Indeed, indeed.” Rice’s hands pressed together in front of his face, forefingers making a point which rested on his lips. “Specimen MX18 and MX41 can be terminated immediately but X23-4 and MX59 still need to undergo full screening and samples.”

“Could I suggest sedation or do ya need ‘em awake?”

“For 23-4 by all means but 59, the empathic mutation still needs further exploration.”

“Fine but complete lockdown. And I have your okay to pull the trigger first signs of it goin’ South?” Donald was assertive, Rice oversaw the project, but he wasn’t above the demands of the company.

“Of course, but we should do everything in our power to stop it coming to that.”

“No problem, I’ll clarify procedures and check the guard rotation personally.”

“Wonderful, what we do without you Donald?” Donald smirked a response, there was no friendship between the two men, but Rice recognised Donald’s skills and how they were essential to the success of the operation. “I will say this, we seem to see you less and less.”

Donald shifted in his seat, “I work all my hours. More even.”

“Of course Donald, I didn’t mean to imply anything, you are dedicated to the programme but maybe now there are other things that have your attention too.” Donald was unsure how much Rice knew but in a company like Transigen were staff was limited, little changes could easily be noticed, and Donald needed to change to accommodate his new situation. “What I am trying to say is that value you Donald and if things need to change so that you can remain part of the team…”

“Thanks,” Donald was noncommittal and sharp. He didn’t know if Rice was sincere or not but he was not going to discuss his personal life with the quack.

**1130: Transigen Briefing Room**

The Reavers’ Alpha team were scattered around the briefing room – some seated, some perched on tables, some crossed armed leaning against the wall. All had military experience, but their discipline didn’t lie in the professional appearance. The briefing had descended into animosity (not that these men were ever friendly by any means in fact the opposite, they made their living from aggressive catchment and containment). Things had become slack. It wasn’t that Donnie was away more, it had begun before that, but it needed to be stamped out. Forget the real consequences, the damage that could be caused if just one subject was given the right opportunity, Donald was responsible, and he wouldn’t fail for anyone. He read the riot act - the procedures and protocols were there for a reason. The Reavers were there to do a fucking job and if not then they would either leave, die or feel the wrath of Donald Pierce.

“No liberties, no fucking extra-curricular. Clear?” Donald’s voice boomed.

“Boss…” a burly man with scar over his left eye whined.

“What?” Donald steely gaze stared down the man. The Reavers may have intimidated everyone else, that was the job after all, but Donald Pierce was in charge and no one was above him. “Taylor, you wanna get y’dick wet find a girl or boy or whatever fucking hole you prefer.”

The older mutants, the ones they tracked and contained, were too accessible and too desirable for some of the crew, who’d begun to dabble. Donnie didn’t give a fuck – he didn’t partake himself, he would never taint himself like that (even before he met you) but it had all got a little too common place. He’d turn a blind eye as long as the ship was tight, except some of the men had started to become distracted, started to see the mutants as something other than what they were. Some of them offered benefits in return for the mutants’ compliance – to ease their conscious or sweeten the deal, whatever. However, these rendezvous gave the muties a little too much freedom, a little too much confidence. There had been an escape only a few months after you met, the facility had been on lockdown and he was stuck in Mexico for a fucking age. It had got better for a while but the increasing incidents of late warned it was slipping again, hence the four recommended terminations. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

“Oh come on, can’t all be as lucky as you Don, we’ve not all got a fine piece of ass waitin’ back home.” Taylor gained a murmured laugh from the room, Donald smirked but he was seething.

“Then your ugly, pinned dick self needs to put hand in y’pocket and pay for fucking pussy.” Donald gained his own rowdy cheer. “There will be no indulgences, clear?” Taylor and rest groaned in agreement and the group began to disband.

Donald brooded by the door glaring at the men as they left, reinforcing his dominance, when Taylor went to pass Donald indicated he should wait. As soon as the room was empty Donald pounced, pinned the bulky man to the wall, his metal hand under his chin, restricting his airway.

“Whoa, whoa.” Taylor’s hands in air above his head in surrender.

Donald pushed at him again, “You fucking dare mention my girl again I will feed you to the fucking mutants.” Fuming and full of anger, Donald could have done it before the rest of crew, yet as much as it would have asserted his status he would have given himself away, given away how important you were to him. It wasn’t embarrassment, it was a way of keeping safe, in case any reprisals.

“Yeah, yeah, no harm. I didn’t mean any disrespect.” Taylor whimpered, Donald let him down and smoothed the bunched clothing.

“As long as we are clear.” A sneer exposing his gold tooth.

**1400: Transigen Facility, Examination Room 5**

Wails from the subject could be heard – it wasn’t pure, just one of Rice’s little experiments X23-7 yet when the noise filled the room Donald wished they’d gagged the thing before they began. The abomination could manipulate fire and the lab coats wanted to see if the thing was immune to its effects, but apparently though it was good at burning shit it was as vulnerable as everyone else when the tables were turned. The room stank of scorched skin. Stank of disappointment and terror. The subject was weeping and one of the nurses cradled its head and stroked its hair, whispered consolations in its ear, like a mother to a child.

Fuck, this was the fucking problem. Everywhere he turned his colleagues saw people not subjects, not experiments, nor abominations. At least Donald understood the Reavers’ motivation, selfish and exploitative, bonds which could more easily broken. But a tender-hearted woman comforting a ‘child’ well that was problematic. His associates didn’t realise how manipulative these things could be, give an inch they’d take a mile, get a sense of entitlement. If you let your guard down for one moment everyone would be in danger. They would exploit your weakness and be gone, or you’d be dead, or both. Better to separate, they were the enemy and deserved no sympathy. His co-workers needed to distance themselves too but maybe he was unique, after all he recognised how their work could be viewed by those outside the facility. It was the reason he’d not told his own tender-hearted woman. You were the kind that would see them as people, vulnerable and weak, who deserved better. You’d be worse than the nurse, you wouldn’t stand by and partake, offer small tokens of affection. Transigen would be an evil monster and everyone who worked there would be beyond redemption. See it in simple terms, but nothing was simple.

**2230: Donald Pierce’s Apartment, Mexico City**

Donnie was alone in his home office, dark except for the blue light of the monitor, completing tedious paperwork, if he could get it done he’d have more time to sightsee the city like he’d promised. The door was open but there was a faint knock and he looked up to see you lazily leaning against the frame.

“Hey,” you whispered.

“Hey,” he returned, a smile curling his mouth.

You’d agreed to watch TV whilst he got on top of things, he thought that maybe you had fallen asleep – eyes looked heavy and hair a little matted. It was tied up exposing your neck, you wore a t-shirt and shorts that you’d sleep in. You were at your most relaxed and sexiest.

“I’m going to go to bed now. You nearly done?”

“Nearly baby, come here.” He pushed his chair a little away from the desk to beckon you to him. You padded forward lightly your bare feet hardly making a noise, you stopped at the edge of the desk, he looked to question your reservation.

“Nothing top secret on there?” tilt of head to the screen, you were teasing but the words were genuine, trying to avoid conflict - you knew he wanted to keep work private.

“No,” he chuckled “just work schedule, come on.” Pushed chair back further still, patted his thigh. You didn’t need more, jumped in his lap, folded your arms around him, fingers playing with his hair, snuggled into his neck. Donnie’s own hand moved to curve of your behind, his face trying to seek out your lips – soft open kisses, a sign of his love but also lust. Your touch, however light, always sparked deep passion. You adjusted above him, moved upwards to straddle his legs, ground down into him, the pressure felt good. He groaned, his cock twitched, he looked at you and clacked his teeth. “You’re a tease.”

You shook your head, “Can’t be a tease if I’m willing to see it through.” You ground down again, placed your hand between your bodies cupped his hardening bulge.

“Tormentin’ me, I gotta work baby.” he said with a throaty chuckle.

“You work too hard,” you hummed, pressed downwards against him once more, hand still in place adding to the wonderful pressure. Despite his protests, Donnie’s hands were at your waist pulling you to him. “Do you want me to stop?”

He growled. “Fuck no. Fuck baby you’ll be the death of me.”

“I can wait for you in the bedroom.” you suggested, leaned back so he could see the coy smile on your face.

Donnie didn’t answer, he just pushed up your shirt, hands now holding hot skin and encouraged you to move, rocking rhythmically on him, dry jumping like horny teenagers, work seemingly forgotten. You reached for his buckle, but he stopped you, stilled your movements, he reached past to the desk shoved papers and the keyboard aside making a small space. You were still sat on him giggling, “Donnie.” He lifted you up, popped you on now cleared the desk.

“What you were the one who said I should stop working.”

“You are bad.” you grinned and shook your head.

“Baby you started this…” you raised your eyebrows to query the statement, hadn’t he been the one who had called you to his lap? “Besides honestly you don’t wanna know how many times I’ve thought about fucking you rather than working.” The playful tone you loved rang in his voice.

“Can’t get me off your mind huh?”

“No idea baby.” Standing between your knees, reaching for the waistband of your shorts and you held onto him to balance as he removed them, the desk cold against newly revealed skin. He undid his own trousers to release his throbbing erection and went to you. Work and its burdens forgotten and lost in the love of his women.


End file.
